


Return Policy

by SassySnowperson (DramaticEntrance)



Series: SassySnowperson's Marvel Works [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Feelings, Fix-It, Found Family, Gunshot Wounds, Humor, Many other characters - Freeform, Missing Scenes, POV Steve Rogers, Peggy Carter believes in shooting first and asking questions later, Post-Canon Fix-It, There's no proof canon doesn't work this way, Time Travel, You Break the Timestream You've Bought the Timestream
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-07 01:39:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18863128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramaticEntrance/pseuds/SassySnowperson
Summary: When all was said and done, someone still needed to put the Infinity Stones back.





	Return Policy

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [RogueShadows](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/rogueshadows/) for her beta pass. 
> 
> Obviously, many, many Avengers: Endgame spoilers Ahoy. 
> 
> Additional content warning: a needle and an on-screen body. More spoilery explanation in the end notes.

The sun warmed Steve, sinking into his skin. He sat down on a nearby bench, closed his eyes, and turned his face skyward, listening to the sound of people who were happy. Safe. This was what he fought for.

"So," a voice came next to him, before a body presumptuously thunked down next to Steve, "time travel." 

Steve opened his eyes, though he could have recognized the person next to him blindfolded in a blizzard. He was pretty sure he had, once or twice. War memories tended to blur together. 

Bucky gave Steve a smile as he settled, elbows on his knees, staring out into the courtyard.

Steve nodded. "It wasn't the solution I was expecting, but yes, that does seem to be the case." 

"And now you have a machine, that lets you travel through time, and you're going to use it to put the stones back." 

"So that Thanos can find them, then use them, then destroy them." Steve twitched. "I was hoping to stop him from using them at all, but our leading experts assure me that would be a very bad idea." 

"Sometimes you can only move forward." Bucky paused, giving Steve a piercing look. "But sometimes forward is backward." 

Steve gave Bucky a flat look. "You've been spending too much time with Doctor Strange." 

Bucky shrugged. "He knows all the best dumpling places. But that's beside the point. The point, is that the Man Out of Time now has a _time machine._ " 

"And a job to do." 

"And when that's done?" Bucky asked. 

Steve stood up from the bench, folding his arms and glaring at Bucky. "I don't think I like what you're implying. You really think I'd leave all that we fought for here?" Steve waved his hand angrily over the Avengers compound, over the entire world, over the peace they had just barely managed to win. 

Bucky looked up at him, patient and loving, and Steve felt like he was eighteen and coming home bruised again. "Fighting's done, Steve. You get those stones home and...maybe it's time to rest." 

Steve could feel his mouth set into a firm, unhappy line. "I'm not going to leave you again." 

Bucky stood himself, cupping the back of Steve's head and bringing their foreheads together. "That's what I'm worried about. Steve, if you want to come back, come back, but if you find some happiness out there and you give it up for me? I'm gonna kick your ass, punk." 

Steve laughed, wrapping his arms around Bucky. "Whatever, jerk." 

Bucky patted the back of Steve's head twice, before he pulled back, hands on Steve's shoulders as he looked into Steve's eyes. "I'm serious." 

Steve tilted his head. "You want to come too?" 

Bucky shook his head and let his hands drop. "Thought of that. But...the past isn't exactly a happy place for me. Besides, Steve, you know how badly I've always wanted to see the future." Bucky gestured around. "It's here. I'm gonna do my best to enjoy it. It's been good to me lately."

Steve nodded, swallowing around a lump in his throat. 

"Aside from the part where a purple dick turned me to dust for five years, but you know, I don't really remember that bit." 

Steve laughed, and then glared at Bucky, angry that he was laughing. Bucky grinned, and Steve put him in a headlock, and they spent a few minutes roughhousing in the grass around the Avenger compound. 

"Right," Steve said, standing and back away. He could feel an ache around his ribs, where Bucky's elbow had caught him, and smirked to see Bucky still sprawled out in the grass, black eye blooming along his right cheek. They'd both heal in a couple minutes, but that made the fight more fun. "I do need to go get ready." 

"Sure thing," Bucky said, making no effort to move off of the ground. "Think about what I said." 

Steve shook his head. "I'll see you soon," he said, laying heavy emphasis on the words. 

"Sure," Bucky responded, tucking his arms behind his head. "One way or another." 

* * *

Steve gasped as the rush of the time-stream wore off. That was a trip that did not get less creepy with experience. He cracked his neck to the right, then to the left, staring down at the wind-swept and rain-swept and fog-swept plains of Morag. 

"Right. First stone. Here we go." 

Steve made his way down the slope in front of him, picking his way through the ruins of the temple. In terms of when, he had landed just seconds after Rhodey had beamed out, and Nebula had not. Steve slunk in just in time to hear Nebula being carted away by...Nebula. 

This whole aspect of time travel made Steve's head ache. He had informed Nebula, once they finally settled down to swap stories, that they belonged to an exclusive, "I have fought my younger self due to the infuriating nature of time travel" club. She was hard to read, but they had shared a smile over that one, at least. 

"Sorry," he whispered in her general direction. He knew this wasn't pain he could stop, but it didn't stop him from wanting to fix things. 

Once he arrived in the temple antichamber and found the room clear, Steve opened his case, slotting the purple gem back into the ball they had found it in. He tossed the ball idly up and down in his hand as he considered the blue glowing containment field that had done Nebula's hand in. Getting through that was going to be...

A faint grunt came through the opening behind him, and Steve poked his head out of the door to find the crumpled lump of Starlord, still unmoving. Steve looked from the ball in his hand, to still-live field generator surrounding it's mount, to the sodden looking body. 

Steve shrugged. "We know he leaves with it anyway," he muttered, picking his way back over to the unconscious man. 

Steve hid behind a rock and watched until he saw Peter wake up, blink and look at the ball tucked in his hands, and give a disbelieving little laugh. 

Perfect. One down. Five to go. 

* * *

Steve landed in Asgard, with three goals in mind. The first two were fairly straightforward. Put the hammer back, put the stone back. Steve wasn't thrilled about needing to put the hammer back. That thing swung like a dream. Still, not worth messing up a time stream. Besides, it wasn't going to be as painful as goal two—putting the reality stone back.

Or rather, put the amorphous blob of reality energy back into one Jane Foster. 

He was...not looking forward to this one. 

Rocket ran out of the room, chased by a cadre of yelling guards, and Steve snuck into the room after him. Jane was rubbing the back of her neck and staring out the window, looking confused. Steve screwed his courage to the sticking point and started working his way around columns, trying to get within arms reach before—

"Captain America?" 

Fuck. 

Steve licked his lips. "Ah. Doctor Foster?" 

"What are you doing here?" 

"Just…" Steve cast about for a likely explanation. "...saying hi?" 

"Oh! Well, hello? I suppose you do know Thor. Are the rest of the Avengers...is that a giant needle?" 

Steve fought the urge to hide the giant needle behind his back. He hesitated, before finally reluctantly admitting, "...yes." 

Jane's eyes narrowed. "I know why you're here." 

Steve shifted back and forth on his feet. "I…" she was one of the smartest human beings on the planet, whose work on Einstein-Rosen bridges did intersect with some of the time travel math, so even though it was unlikely, she could probably intuit…

"Loki!” Jane snarled, before lunging at him with _a dagger when did she get a dagger?_

"No!" Steve frantically dodged her wild swinging. "That's not—Why does this keep happening?" 

Jane pulled back and made another run at him. Steve grabbed her arm, tucked her against her chest, and muttered, "Ma'am, I just want you to know I am deeply sorry about this," before he plunged the needle into the side of her neck. 

Jane glared at him, the rush of power from the reality sto—amorphous blob tracing red lines under her skin. "Loki….you'll never get away with this…" she whispered, before toppling over, unconscious. 

Steve sighed, picked her up, and wondered if Asgard had magical CCTV. He laid her down on a very fancy couch—probably one of those things that was actually called a divan or a chaise lounge or something like that. He set the hammer down next to her, giving it a wistful pat. 

Just to cover his tracks, he threw his hands in the air and said, "Yes, it is I, Loki. You'll never understand my plots." Steve made a half-hearted attempt at an evil laugh, before sighing and walking out of the room. 

Now for the third goal. This one was going to be more complicated. Steve wound his way through Asgard, trying to mentally lay the map of the palace that Thor had drawn for him over the reality of the place. There was a lot more...gilt, here. Ornamentation. And Thor, his many, many talents aside, was not a particularly skilled artist. 

Still, with only minimal backtracking, Steve managed to find the alcove where Thor (Future Thor, according to this timeline) and Frigga were talking. Thor left, and Steve waited a couple seconds before taking a deep breath and clearing his throat. 

Frigga turned, her face lighting up with an easy smile. "Steve. Good to see you." 

Steve pulled up short. Thor had talked about him? Or Asgard had spied on him? Either way, he was an odd mix of creeped out and flattered. "Yes. I was looking for you."

Frigga gave a graceful smile. "I imagine you were." Her eyes flicked to where Thor had just left. "Quite the day for men out of time." 

Steve winced at how unwittingly close Frigga had gotten to one of his least-favorite nicknames. "Ma'am—Uh Your Majesty—"

"Please," Frigga said, laying a hand on his arm, "just Frigga." 

"Frigga," Steve said, inclining his head. "I need some help, and I believe you're the best person to speak with." Steve took a breath. "Loki stole the tesseract and ran away. In the past. And I need to figure out where he went, so that I can bring him back."

Frigga looked at him, something gently amused crinkling around her eyes. "Aren't you concerned I'll refuse to aid you against my own son?"

Steve gave a grave nod. "Yes. But I'm not against him. Oh, certainly, I won't be doing what he wants in the moment, but…I know my mother loved me dearly, and that's exactly why she was concerned about quite a bit more than just my wants." 

Frigga smiled. "It's Heimdall you'll need then. He could not see Loki while he was in Thanos' realm, but provided he does not race back there again, locating him should be simple." 

Steve remembered Thor's stories of how Loki had needed to knit himself back together again. At the time, he mostly listened with disdain. Now, though, he was glad he had listened at all. "Thanos wasn't kind to Loki. I doubt he'd go back there. Is Heimdall going to be inclined to help me?" 

Frigga inclining her head, said thoughtfully, "If you come to him after Loki goes to your New York, yes. Loki's actions were a blight on Asgard, and Heimdall has always been Asgard's most loyal son." 

Steve raised his eyebrows in the direction of Thor's retreat. 

Frigga chucked. "Thor is one loyal son, yes, but he has more growing to do. But we are not here to speak of my loyal son, but my misguided one. You know how to find him now. Catching him...that will be more difficult." 

"I've beaten him before," Steve said with a smile. 

"No, your team has beaten him before. He may be weakened by your battle, but he wields an object of immense power." 

Steve smiled. "I've got one of those myself." 

"No. You carry your objects, but you don't know how to wield them. You need a teacher." 

"Not trying to wield them, ma'am, just trying to get them safely home again." 

"You think Loki will care about that? He has turned his magic to terrible purpose, but that does not negate his skill." Frigga gave Steve a considering look, before nodding her head shortly. "Let me teach you. I know you have time." 

"Ah." Steve ducked his head, trying to keep the timeline straight. "I'm not sure you do." 

Frigga smiled over at him fondly, "Not now, perhaps. But what, Captain Steve Rogers of Brooklyn, Son of Sara, makes you think this is the first time we've met?" 

Steve blinked, raising his eyebrows. "I'm fairly certain that's not how the timeline works. Until I take the action, it doesn't impact you. Branching time streams. Something like that." 

Frigga chuckled. "I'm magic. We tweak the rules. It's very frustrating. Now, let's see, about seven hundred years ago I remember there were a few weeks where I was very bored." She reached out, grabbing Steve's wrist, poking at the wrist-band that Steve thought of as his 'time GPS'. Frigga patted the back of his hand. "There we go. Come find me, Steve, and let's see what a human can learn." 

Later, though how much later was up for debate—Steve was really beginning to think he was going to need to develop new grammar for this, and the thought gave him a headache—he strode into Heimdall's post. With a flourish, Steve gave what he thought was a pretty good bow (Frigga's smiles at his attempts at court formality had turned from slightly pained to cheerfully indulgent—Steve decided to take that as a good sign), and said, "Heimdall. I need to find Loki. I understand you're the one to ask." 

Heimdall gave him an unimpressed look. "I can see everything, you know. Well, mostly everything. Including the other two versions of you currently in New York. You're an impossibility, and a complicating one."

"I won't argue the impossibility," Steve said, fighting back an exasperated sigh of his own. "I don't understand how this works, either. But I am here to fix the complication. Loki got free again because of my team. I'm here to put him back." 

"It won't be easy. He has the..." Heimdall gave Steve a more piercing glance. "Nevermind, I suppose that won't be an issue." Heimdall nodded, then spread his hands, and his Sight opened up to Steve. Steve saw Loki easily, hidden in a remote tower. It would be difficult to access, he had clear line of sight to anyone coming. He'd be gone the moment a body first appeared from the treeline. 

Well it was a good thing he had taken some time with Frigga then, wasn't it.

Steve gave Heimdall an appreciative nod, gave himself a satisfied smile, and gave Loki the shock of his life when he teleported into the tower's observatory. 

"You...you can't—" was all Loki managed to splutter before Steve tapped him with the Scepter, the mind stone gave a brief flare, and Loki slumped over. 

Steve rubbed the back of his head. "That was incredibly satisfying," he said to himself, as he hoisted Loki up and, half-using the suit, half-using the Time Stone (the extra passenger made things tricky), and—reaching deep into the magic that Frigga taught him—teleported them both back to New York. 

* * *

"Okay, here we go." Steve muttered, watching the blue cloud of the other Loki poof away. He quickly shoved _his_ still-dazed Loki forward. "The tesseract!" he called, pitching his voice too high, "Someone grab Loki!" 

There was a shudder of action, hands grabbing Loki, and Steve took that distraction to slip the tesseract back. Right. Okay. Bonus Infinity Stone and runaway villain handled. Now for the staff. He turned back down the hallway, finding the retreating Hydra crew. He ducked into the corner and his civilian clothes shifted back into his Captain America uniform. 

Steve had to admit, Tony's quantum suits we're a miracle for this whole subterfuge thing. Instant clothing quick change. He would have giving his front teeth for something like that during the war. 

He sidled back up behind Rumlow. "Change of plans. Here you go," he said, handing the briefcase back. 

Rumlow gave him a suspicious look. "Everything alright?" He went to take the briefcase. Steve found he had some trouble letting go. 

He took a deep breath. Bucky got out. And Steve got to punch Rumlow in his stupid face. Repeatedly. It wasn't worth breaking the time stream for. He had to let this play out. He let go of the briefcase. "Everything's fine," Steve said, thinking about all the reunited families, all the joy and life the future held. It made the words true. He could let this go. 

As Steve turned to leave, he hooked his foot across Rumlow's ankle, sending the man sprawling across the ground with a satisfying "thud".

"Sorry, long day, I'm getting clumsy," Steve said with an unfriendly smile. "Must be tired." 

* * *

Steve crept back into the military base. He shifted his clothes to look like a scientist, and crept down into the labs and tried to find the locker that Tony had sliced open. 

There it was. Steve pulled out the tesseract and went to put it back into the locker. 

"Hey!" a voice called from across the room. 

Steve winced, making a show of pulling back from the locker and ducking away. At least the tesseract was in the locker. He might get arrested, but it was mission accomplished. It'd be simple enough to break out again, anyway.

"Steve," the voice said, sounding so relieved, and Steve recognized it. 

Oh, no. 

"I knew it! I was just about to head out of here when I saw you pass by and I told the car to stop. It's you!" Howard Stark said, growing more certain and striding forward. "You're alive." 

Steve, feeling a twist of misery in his chest, tried ducking his head and pitching his voice higher, "Um, sorry, I'm Doctor, Um, Banner and—" 

"Steve," Howard sounded hurt, undeterred as he came forward. "You seriously think I wouldn't recognize the man I've spent the last couple decades looking for?" 

Steve dropped the act, and straightened up, looking over at the man who had once been his friend. "No," he said, defeated even to his own ears. "I'm sorry Howard." 

"Have you been alive this whole time? Why didn't you tell me? I would have...we would have...oh, Lord, Peggy!" Delight bloomed on his face. "Peggy's here, we've got to tell her—" 

"No!" Steve forced out, past the anguish in his chest. "I can't." 

Bucky's well-meant words about having a time machine rose in his mind again. The jerk. Like Steve hadn't thought of it. Like that wasn't all Steve had thought about. Like Steve hadn't sat in a window and watched Peggy, living her life fully and well, and ached for her. Ached to make that dance he had missed. But he couldn't do it without messing up the timeline, and that wasn't a price he was willing to pay. 

"But why?" 

Steve looked at Howard, and scrambled for some sort of explanation that would justify his presence without giving everything away. 

"We looked for you," Howard approached Steve palms up, a hunger for absolution on his features. 

"I know you did. I know you are." Steve shook his head, and finally said, "I was frozen in the ice. Sleeping. I woke up in the future." 

"When. How long ago?" 

Steve made a face. "Further on from now." 

Howard stared at him, then glanced over at the tesseract. "Is that—We've never figured out everything it lets you do. Does it let you walk through time?" 

Steve shook his head. "Not this. But something else does. And I can't stay here, Howard." 

"You just got here. You can't—I have so many questions." 

"I can't answer them," Steve said sadly. Acting on some instinct developed long after he and Howard had known each other, Steve strode forward and wrapped Howard up in a hug. Howard stiffened, and that was to be expected. Their generation had some hangups about affection. "I'm sorry I can't stay. But I can't make myself sorry I've seen you. I've missed you, old friend." 

Howard held Steve closer, making a pained noise. "Do I get to see you again? Steve, will I—" 

Steve squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't say anything. 

Howard melted in his arms, leaning his forehead against Steve's shoulder. "Let me guess, another thing you can't tell me. Well, fair enough." Howard stepped back, out of the hug, and clapped his hands around Steve's shoulders. "In case I don't get another chance, here's what needs saying. You are a miracle, and not because of your impeccably designed body. You are a genuinely good man, and that's coming from an old cynic like me. You made me believe in heroes. And I've been trying my whole life to measure up to that standard you set."

Steve shook his head. "Howard, you've got nothing to live up to. You are your own extraordinary person. That's what the world needs. It's..." Steve hesitated, and decided to be a little reckless. "It's what your kid is going to need." 

Howard brightened. "You know about...Boy or girl?" 

Steve shook his head, lifting a finger to his lips. "They're amazing, though. You're going to be proud of them." 

Howard smiled, looking more settled. "Sure I can't convince you to see Peggy?" 

Steve shook his head. "Not on the cards," he said sadly. "Take care of her, won't you?"

Howard laughed, a warm and broken sound. "Steve, I'm afraid you've gotten much, much stupider if you think that I'm the one doing the taking care of. Peg looks after me alright, though." 

Steve, glancing up and away to fight the emotion surging, gave a weak smile. "Fair. Don't know what I was thinking. Try not to make too much trouble for her, then?"

Howard gave a wry smile. "No promises."

Steve smiled. "Take care, old friend." And then he turned and walked away quickly, jumping as soon as he ducked around the corner, certain if he stayed another minute, he'd never be able to leave. And there were still two stones left to return. 

* * *

Steve looked up the mountain and narrowed his eyes. It was going to be a long journey. Steve took a deep breath. Nothing for it but the climb. 

As he neared the top, a ghostly figure cloaked in black, hovering above the edge of the ground, stood waiting for him. With a slow gesture, the hood was pulled back from the being's face. 

Steve knew that face. Or lack thereof. Red Skull. 

"Captain America," the Nazi bastard said slowly, sharp. "I must say I never dreamed you would grace my humble dwelling. What a pleasant surprise. It is to my sorrow that I must inform you that the Soul Stone has already been—" 

Steve strode forward in two quick strides and sank his fist into that leering head. Whatever he was now, he was solid enough to crack under Steve's fist. He collapsed to the ground, a pile of semi-translucent cloak. 

Steve smiled down at the figure. "I know." He shook out his fist as he walked over to the platform, muttering to himself, "Nobody really dies anymore."

He had arrived seconds after Clint left. Looking down from the cliff face, the body was still visible below. Steve closed his eyes and swallowed hard. "Nobody really dies," he said to himself, more hopeful this time. He reached down to his belt, pulling out Tony's tiny, lightweight version of a grappling hook. With a button press the small disk launched hooks into the rock. Steve tested its grip with a few firm tugs 

"Here we go," Steve said, and launched himself off the side. 

It was a long drop, but not a terrifying one. In fact, it almost got dull, sliding down, down the rope, against the grey blankness of the mountain. Finally, his feet found the ground and his eyes found Natasha. Her body sprawled out on the slab below. People say all sorts of dumb things when they see a corpse, like, 'oh, they look peaceful,' or, 'it looks like it didn't hurt too badly.' 

Steve had seen enough corpses to not be bothered by that particular sentimental impulse. Nat just looked dead. Dead for a cause she felt was worthy, dead to save someone she loved, but dead nonetheless. Steve gently went over, and picked up her still-warm body. He closed his eyes. He hoped this would work, and hated his hope at the same time. 

This sort of thing hurt less if you didn't have hope. He hadn't told anyone else he'd be trying this. He wanted to give them the gift of their certainty. But Steve had always been bad at moving on; an idea had come into his head and refused to leave it. 

So, as gently as he could, he carried Natasha up, and set her down between the soaring stone pillars. He pulled out the stone. "Alright. Soul for a soul." 

Red Skull, who had managed to pull himself back together, wheezed from next to him, "This was not your sacrifice. You don't get to undo it." 

Steve brushed some hair off of Natasha's forehead. "No. It was hers. So if anyone gets to decide, it's her. 

"That's not how the exchange works," Red Skull insisted. 

"And you wore a creepy skin mask just about the whole time I knew you. Don't see any reason to start trusting a liar now." Steve narrowed his eyes over at Red Skull. "Now stay quiet or I'll punch you again." 

Red Skull sulked away, but Steve hardly noticed. He took a deep breath and held the shimmering gem toward the sky. "Soul for a soul." 

A storm broke around them. Howling wind and blinding flashes of light. Steve blinked against the torrent, instinctively hunching over Natasha to shelter her. He tucked one hand under her head and fought to keep the other held skyward. "Soul for a soul," he said again, low and determined. The roar turned deafening, stealing all his words, stealing all the sound, until there was nothing but the sound and the fury...

There was silence, aside from the gentle sound of water lapping . Steve opened his eyes. He wasn't on the mountain. The stone was gone. 

Natasha was looking back at him. 

"Nat!" Steve breathed in with joy. 

Natasha blinked up at him in confusion. "Steve? Are you..." she trailed off with a wince, clutching at her side. She gave shuddering exhale, and Steve could see blood around her teeth and gums. 

"You're hurt," Steve said, his eyes widening. Apparently getting the soul back hadn't fixed the body. Natasha tried to struggle up. "No, no, don't move. We need to get you to a hospital. 

Natasha gave him a look. It clearly said, "Ah yes, the windswept plains of Wherever-the-Fuck-We-Are. Well known for its robust medical infrastructure." Being direly injured had apparently not changed her ability to snark. 

"I know, I know," Steve said, working his Time GPS off and programming it. Coordinates set, he put it on Natasha's wrist. He tapped the suit, ordering the nanobots to condense into the belt. He carefully took the belt off, wrapping it around Natasha. "We'll get you back somewhere safe." 

Natasha raised an eyebrow over Steve's body, a question clear on her face. 

Steve smiled. "Don't worry about me. I've still got the time stone. And I know how to use it now. I'll be able to get out of here too. But I need to send you back now." 

Natasha glared at him, before giving a reluctant nod. 

Steve smiled, brushing some hair away from her forehead. "I'm so glad it worked, Nat. We won. It was all worth it, we saved the universe. But they need you back there." 

Natasha gave a thin smile. "Maybe...was enjoying my nap." 

"I may have some experience there." Steve leaned in, kissing her forehead. "You held us all together through five years of hell. And you've been looking out for me a lot longer than that. I know you're the person that can take us forward." He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

Natasha's hand curled around Steve's wrist. He pulled back to find her smiling at him. "Where...you going?" 

Steve swallowed. "One more stone to return. I may get stuck there, but it's only a few years. I'll see you soon." 

Natasha flattened her lips, but nodded once, giving Steve's wrist a squeeze. "Send me...somewhere...painkillers." 

"You got it, boss." Steve grinned, then pushed the button. Natasha vanished out of his arms. 

* * *

Steve sat, and looked over the plains, staring down at the slim green stone in his hand. Last stone left. Time to go to the New York Sanctum and return the stone to its rightful owners. 

Steve licked his lips and stared at the stone. 

_Seems the man out of time has a time machine._ Bucky's voice rang in his head. Steve wrapped his fingers around the stone and closed his eyes. No. That wasn't who he was. He wasn't the person that made the selfish choice. His job was to return the stone, and it would be done. 

The memory of Howard's face—delighted, then bereft—swam behind his eyelids. What if....what if he told Peggy? Told Peggy that Steve Rogers had travelled through time and hadn't thought that seeing her was important enough. Steve didn't think he could live with the thought that Peggy might think that he didn't care. Might think he didn't love her.

Steve couldn't place his finger on the moment he had fallen in love with Peggy. He had liked her from the start; she was a blazing bonfire of grit and determination, and Steve could see a kindred spirit. She was determined to fight in a world that told her to sit down, and she had taken one look at him and saw the same. But when he had fallen in love? It was a mystery. 

He just knew he had never fallen out of it again. 

Steve felt the firm weight of the stone in his palm, took a deep breath, and decided to be selfish. Just for a moment.

Just long enough for a dance. 

* * *

The house was perfect, Steve thought, as he looked at it from across the street. It was a perfect little home. The sort of house he had dreamed of getting with Peggy, on the other side of the war. 

Steve swallowed. There hadn't been another side of the war, for him. Oh, certainly, the future was nice, and there were a few peaceful years mixed in there, but it was never the peace that Steve had always thought he'd go home to. He still didn't get to go home. Not really. But he was given another chance to see her, and he was too weak to pass it up. 

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and made his way up the stairs. His hand shook as he raised it, hesitantly knocking on the door. It barely came out as a tap. Steve adjusted his sweating palm and knocked again, more firmly this time. 

There was movement, and Steve's heart leapt in his chest as the handle turned. He almost jumped out of existence again. He couldn't do this. He couldn't see her again. What if it ruined her life? What if she didn't even care? Steve didn't know what was worse, the idea that that he would hurt her, or the idea that she had forgotten him.

He screwed his courage to the sticking point and stood his ground. 

The door creaked open and there she was. As beautiful as he had ever remembered, and alive in a way she had never been in memory. Solid. Real. Present. 

And holding a gun. 

Steve's eyes went wide, looking down at the barrel. The part of him that was frozen in place by her presence was thrown into pitched battle against the part of him that saw a weapon and wanted to react. The frozen part won. He could never hurt Peggy. 

"Peggy..." was all Steve managed to say, before she shot him, once in each knee. There was blinding pain, and Steve felt his legs collapse out from underneath him. Before he could protest further, he felt a needle prick the meat of his upper arm, and woozy blackness took him. 

He woke up tied to a chair. Normally, this wasn't much of an issue. Either the bonds broke or the chair did, he just needed to pull hard enough. But the knots were good, wrists and elbows and forearms knotted behind his back. He didn't have any leverage. He gave a tentative flex, and found no give. 

"Who are you?" Peggy's voice, cold and uncompromising, came from behind him. Steve's breath hitched. It was her. She had shot him and tied him up but all his mind could think was that _it was her_. It was a good thing that, aside from Wanda's visions, nobody had thought to use Peggy against him. They'd win every time. 

"Peggy, it's me. It's Steve." 

"Steve Rogers died a decade ago. Try. Again," Peggy snapped, her words cracking like a whip, and Steve flinched like he was struck. "You're a good likeness, I'll give you that." 

Steve closed his eyes. Of course. If Peggy had just shown up in the future, Steve would have...well, he probably would have hugged her tight and taken her home, right through all the security of Avenger's compound. And then Natasha would have yelled at him about OpSec when Peggy had turned out to be a spy, or a clone, or whatever. But Steve had always been dumber about these things than Peggy had. Peggy knew better. 

Which is why Steve had been shot and tied to a chair. No chances to wiggle free. Smart woman. 

Speaking of the gunshot wound...it was time to stop letting his heart make all the decisions, and bring his brain back into things. "My knees have healed," Steve said. 

Peggy gave a sharp inhale. 

"Thank you for prying the bullets out before you bandaged them. I always hate needing to reinjure myself to pull out bullets. You remember when we were in the countryside around Metz, and we ran into that German patrol? They put three bullets in my shoulder, and it took us so long to get to safety the skin had closed up again." 

"That's a matter of public record," Peggy said, her voice tight. 

"I wanted to leave them in there," Steve said, undaunted. "I said a few lumps would probably just make things more interesting. It's not like infection was going to fell me. You were having none of it." 

Peggy gave a shaky gasp behind him, and Steve let his head drop, closing his eyes. "You said....you were so furious. You asked if I was so quick to forget what it was like to have my body betray me at every turn. Was I so quick to forget? To treat the gift I had been given so poorly?"

"And you said," Peggy's voice was trembling. "You said..." 

"That I may have some lingering issues around the idea of doctors. And then you said..."

Peggy was silent for a long moment before she said, her voice choked thick with emotion, "Who said anything about doctors?" 

Steve gave a rough laugh, slumping forward in the chair. "And then you cut me open yourself. Hurt like a motherf—like the dickens, I'll have you know." 

Peggy gave a weak laugh. "Still refusing to swear around me?" 

A sob and a laugh fought for dominance in Steve's throat. He choked it back down to say, "It's a matter of respect. You're a lady. Doesn't matter how many times you shoot me." 

Peggy's hand rested along his shoulder, her thumb tracing the exact place the bullets hand landed. Steve shivered. "Peggy, please, can I see you?" 

Peggy stepped around from behind him, and Steve saw her properly for the first time since she had shot him. Her eyes were red, her mascara running in tracks down her cheek. His unflappable Peggy. He hoped she took some solace in the fact that she wasn't the only one crying. 

"Steve," she said, her voice going all wobbly. "I'm so sorry." 

Before Steve could even open his mouth to say all was forgiven, she laid her fingers along his cheek. Steve closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. It was worth it. This whole trip was worth it, for that touch. 

"How are you here?" Peggy asked softly. 

Steve gave a weak smile, and felt her thumb shift to brush the apple of his cheek. "You're not going to believe it. Time travel."

"Not from the past," she said, reaching up to brush the corners of his eyes, finding the micro-fine wrinkles that hid there, his manufactured body still showing some wear. "You didn't have these before." 

"No. I woke up, trapped in ice, in the future. I've lived about ten years, there," Steve said, never opening his eyes, wanting the touch to last forever.

"Is that why you came back now?" Peggy asked, her fingers tracing up, into his hairline, running her nails through the strands. "And not five minutes after you crashed into the ocean? You wanted me to live the same lonely ten years?"

Steve shivered. "No," his voice went rough. "I'd never want to cause you pain. That's why..." Steve opened his eyes, to find Peggy considering him seriously. "You've done so much in the past ten years, Peggy. I was worried if I showed up I'd mess it up." 

"And it's all downhill from here?" she quirked an amused little smile. "Anything I should know?" 

Steve shook his head. "No. I just...figured if I came back for that dance I owed you, I should be decent enough to pick a time when you wouldn't be judged too harshly for a couple off days, in case...in case my coming wasn't the gift I hoped it would be." Steve swallowed, and said the hardest words. "Say the word and I'll leave, Peggy. I couldn't bear making things worse for you." 

"And how exactly will you do that?" 

"There's certain things I can't tell—"

"I suppose it has something to do with that green stone," Peggy said, almost idly. 

Steve couldn't stop the way his shoulders drew tight, the involuntary flex he gave against the rope. The stone, as far as Steve knew, was still stored in a small pocket inside his waistband. Someone would have to search him very thoroughly to find it. 

Very thoroughly. 

Steve turned pink. 

To his surprise, Peggy chuckled. "I showed you how to hide things there, darling. You can't be so surprised that I've found it. I'm dying to know what it is, of course. My people at S.H.I.E.L.D. will crack it, no doubt."

Steve jerked again, the rope creaking this time. Peggy didn't move, but Steve could still read her edges. It was taking her conscious effort to stay still. "Peggy, please, it'll mess up the timeline. You don't want to be responsible for that."

"And you staying? Won't that mess up the timeline too?" 

Steve set his jaw. 

"Here's the way I see it." Peggy tilted her head, analyzing, and it was that gesture that allowed Steve to realize, belatedly, that this was an interrogation. "Either you're not who you say you are, and it's in my best interests to keep you tied up. Or..." Peggy visibly took a breath, lifting her chin. It was a vulnerability, in a way, and Steve knew she showed it deliberately, "...you are who you say you are. And you're going to leave." 

Her voice cracked on the word, 'leave,' and Steve desperately wanted to throw his arms around her, hold her close and promise to stay forever. But he couldn't. "It would be selfish to stay," he said, his voice full of painful grit.

"Well then maybe I go," Peggy said.

"No!" Steve blurted out, dismayed. "This time needs you. You're going to do incredible things. The future is beautiful, Peggy, and it's beautiful because of what you do." 

"And it's so beautiful it's not worth staying?" She was angry, now, and Steve could see it. Steve could understand it. Tied to a chair and he couldn't touch her, but of course, he hadn't earned the right. There and gone, like the worst sort of cad. 

"No! But if I stay, this timeline branches, and without...I don't think I can go back." 

"You've already risked that." Peggy was thoughtful, straightening. "Between this stone and the fact that time travel exists...I can't un-know these things, Steve. Why would you take the risk of coming, if going back is so important?" 

Steve tried to find the explanation, scrambled for words that would put sense to his feelings, when he felt the touch of her fingers against his cheek again. "Peggy, listen—"

"No, Steve, you listen. I'm growing more and more convinced that you are the Steve Rogers I knew and loved. And the man I knew could never abandon his friends if they needed him. Not even to sacrifice. Or death. So Steve, I'll ask you this question, and we'll be done with it. Do they need you?" 

She closed her eyes, and Steve knew she was expecting a 'yes.' And Steve, thinking about Bucky and a world with half of its citizens missing five years, figured he was going to have to give it to her. There was too much unfinished work in the future.

But then he thought again, about Bucky and Sam and Natasha and all the team. Of the way Natasha had already held them together through hell. Tony was gone and he would be mourned but the team would survive without him. 

The team would survive without Steve, too. 

"No," Steve answered honestly, and suddenly felt a universe of possibilities opened in front of him.

Peggy walked around behind him, and Steve heard a rustle, heard the slide of a knife being opened, and then his arms were free. He moved slowly, not wanting to startle Peggy as he brought his arms around front. He lifted one hand to rub at his bicep. 

Peggy walked around to face him, and slowly held out one trembling hand. Steve reached up to take it. The shape of her fingers against his palm was perfect, was the universe putting itself right. She slowly helped him stand. 

"Stay?" Peggy asked, her voice strained but steady. 

"Okay," Steve said, and pulled her close. 

* * *

Of course, it wasn't as simple as that. The time stone still needed to be returned to 2012. And then, Steve would be stuck, no suit, no stone, no way home. 

"It's only another decade," Steve said, trying for the positive. "I can wait another decade, then get a suit, and come back to you." 

Peggy's eyes narrowed. "No. I refuse to waste any more time. This Sanctuary. How long has it been in New York?" 

Which is how they wound up facing a slightly less ancient Ancient One and explaining what was going on. 

"It must be returned to both time and place," the Ancient One said, confirming all Steve's fears. "But since you've managed the place, and are just slightly off on time, in the grand scheme of things. It will be easy enough for us to handle the rest." 

The Ancient One reached out a hand, beckoning for the stone. 

"But...my presence here will disturb the timeline?" Steve couldn't help but feel the mystic keeper of time should be more upset about this. 

Peggy elbowed him firmly in the side. 

"But it will not doom it. You made your promise to return the stone, and are fulfilling it. That's the only divergence we are concerned with. If your future takes place in a different time stream's past..." One slim shoulder shrugged. "It is not our concern. Frankly, I would rather have you here, and have the stone out of your hands. You can do less damage, trapped in one time." 

Steve, hardly believing his good luck, started to hand the stone over. Peggy laid her hand on his wrist. "But if the time stream diverts, our future won't be the one he left." 

The Ancient One nodded. "It is true. Without the suit technology that carried you through the time stream initially, you will be unable to visit the other branches." 

Steve felt something hopeful rise in his chest. "Wait. You're telling me, that if I get another suit, I can find them again?" 

The Ancient One nodded. "Basically. You are a product of that time, and anchored to it. That is the best explanation I can provide...unless you'd like to spend the next few decades studying with us." 

Steve, feeling pure, unadulterated hope like he hadn't in a long, long, time, gave a wild grin. "Who knows?" He set the stone down in the outstretched palm. "I've got time." 

"You'll have better ways of spending it," Peggy said, slightly acerbic. 

"Yes." Steve barely noticed the Ancient One hurrying back inside with the stone. He was focused on better treasure. "Spending it with you." 

The door slammed shut, leaving them on an ordinary-looking doorstep.

"Well yes," Peggy smiled at him. "But I was also thinking...this timeline diverts. So there's really no need to be subtle about this. What do you want to change?" 

Steve waited a handful of heartbeats, before his eyes widened and he said, "I know where Bucky is. Sort of. Hydra has him." 

"Steve! That's...I don't know whether to say terrible or wonderful." Peggy grinned at Steve, something wild and excited in her eyes. "Let's go get him." 

Steve blinked. "S.H.I.E.L.D.! Hydra has infiltrated you!" 

"Not for long," Peggy said, her grin turning ruthless. "What else?"

Steve thought through what he knew, all that would go wrong, all that would go right. All that he could do. "We need to tell Howard to stop looking for me. He's not the one who finds me, anyway, and he's got better things to do. The future I woke up in didn't have _any_ flying cars." 

"Unacceptable," Peggy declared, before grabbing the back of Steve's neck and pulling him down into a kiss, right beside the busy street. After thoroughly kissing him, she rocked back, settling her heels against the concrete. "My turn. Marry me?" 

Steve blinked at her, then over at the street, the house, the busy and unromantic setting. "I had planned on asking..." 

"I don't really care. The universe is giving me everything I want today, and I plan on making the most of it." 

"I know the feeling," Steve murmured, looking down at her, reeling from his change in fortune. 

Peggy took a breath, and seemed to settle a bit, blinking up at Steve with the big brown eyes he loved so dearly. "More importantly, I love you, Steve, I've loved you for a long time, now, and I missed my chance once. I have no intention of missing it again. Marry me, my darling?" 

"Yes," Steve managed to choke out. "Yes!" 

"Good." Peggy nodded, fondness in her eyes as she reached forward and threaded her arm through his elbow. "Good. Let's go, then. The future awaits!" 

* * *

There was a beeping Natasha was all-too-used to hearing. It meant someone she cared about was in the hospital, wounded but alive. That was good. Alive was good. Wounded could generally be fixed. She just needed to figure out who. Figure out what happened. 

Then the pain hit her, and she abruptly realized that, this time, she was the person in the bed. The pain ached along her ribs and back, her hips, her skull, her spine. What had she done? 

"Hey, look who's awake," came Clint's voice. 

Natasha felt herself relax. Clint was there. She was safe. She slowly cracked open one eye, peering at him. He looked exhausted, slumped by her bedside, his forearms resting on the hospital bed, face nearly level with hers. 

"You look like crap," Clint said fondly. 

"What hit me?" Natasha tried rolling her neck and immediately regretted it. 

"The ground," Clint said, almost flippant, but Natasha could read him better than anyone else in the world, and she knew what pain sounded like on his tongue.

And then she remembered.

She reached a hand up, resting the backs of her fingers lightly against the outside of his arm. "My choice." 

Clint shifted, untucking his index finger to press the pad lightly against hers. "It wasn't mine." 

"It worked out. Steve traded back for me." 

"I can see that. Best deal he's ever made." Clint smiled. "Don't ever fucking die for me again, you hear me?" 

"No promises." Natasha gulped, then asked the hard question. "Laura?" 

A throat cleared from the other side of her bed. "I'm okay. The kids are fine, too. They wanted to see you, but we figured you should be spared that until you're a little more coherent."

Natasha rolled her head, painfully, and found Laura smiling at her. Natasha tried to grin back, and suspected the broken....everything...was making it a little weak. "I kept this asshole alive for you." 

"I do appreciate it." Laura's smile turned a little sad. "Though I didn't love the price tag. Glad you're back with us, Tash." 

There was a commotion by the doorway, the sound of soft bickering, rapidly becoming less-soft bickering. Natasha smiled as finally, Bucky shoved his way into the room, Sam dogging his heels. 

"Natasha!" Sam said happily, ducking around Bucky. "I couldn't believe it when we got the call." 

Bucky didn't say anything, but made his way over to her feet, picking up the chart and starting to scan through it. 

[[How's it looking?]] she asked him softly in Russian. 

[[You're very broken,]] he responded. 

[[I could have told you that,]] Clint chimed in, raising his head slightly and drumming his fingers against his arms. [[Pick a better secret language.]]

[[One less people know,]] Laura said, doggedly making her way through the sentence, her words as heavily accented as ever. 

Sam looked around the room. "Oh, sure, everyone speaks Russian. Gang up on Sam. What are you saying?" 

Bucky gave him a mean smile. "Figure it out, Captain." 

Captain. Natasha blinked. "Steve. He's stranded. He has the time stone, but he's going to be stuck once he gives it—" 

Sam and Bucky were both shaking their head. 

Sam cleared his throat. "Steve, ah, found his way back here. Seems like it was about ninety years later, for him. He stayed for a bit, but mostly just wanted to hand off the shield." Sam shrugged. "Apparently, I'm Captain America now." 

"He always planned on it," Bucky said, setting the chart back down and laying a hand on Natasha's ankle. She had no doubt that, after careful examination of her chart, it was the safest place to touch. "He'd come visit me in Wakanda, you know, and say that he hoped he could shake you loose, talked about mending bridges enough to convince Tony to give you a shield." 

Sam swallowed. "I never knew." 

Natasha caught Bucky's eye. She raised an eyebrow.

"I'm okay," Bucky said, squeezing her ankle. "I told him, if he got the chance, he should stay. Glad he listened to me for once. He asked if I wanted to go with." 

"Why didn't you?" she asked. 

"The past isn't forward, for me. I have goats. They need me."

Sam snorted. "Sure, buddy, staying for the goats." 

Bucky gave a considering head tilt, looking Sam over. "Well, and..." 

"Uh-huh?" 

"If I do a good job with the goats they're going to let me start helping with the War Rhinos." 

Sam shook his head. "Right, right." 

Natasha sank back into the bed, looking around the room. Her family, alive and safe and well. 

"I'm going to miss him," she said, not quite able to keep the plaintive note out of her voice, feeling safe enough that she didn't feel the need to try. 

"Me too," Sam said. "Me too." 

"Like a limb," Bucky said, so seriously it took Natasha a minute. 

Clint got there first, groaning and burying his head against the bed. "That's terrible." 

There was general laughter, and Natasha watched Bucky closely. Steve was his best friend, his anchor against Hydra. He couldn't really be okay with Steve being gone. Bucky smiled. "He's home," Bucky mouthed, patting her ankle again. "And so am I."

Natasha decided she could see the truth in that, and let herself sink back against the pillows, enjoying the noise of her family around her. 

**Author's Note:**

> _Spoilery Content Warning Explanation: The needle is used by Steve Rogers to put the Reality Stone back in Jane. It's mostly played as a comedic object. Jane isn't harmed by the needle, but it is applied without her consent._
> 
> _The body belongs to Natasha, and is shown as Steve returns the Soul Stone. Natasha does not stay dead, but is very injured._
> 
> * * *
> 
> Thank you for reading!!! 
> 
> This fic started as a joke in a movie theater, about what exactly it would look like for Steve to put all the stones back. It grew into something more as I wrote it, a chance for me to fit in some emotional explanation. I found a lot of joy in taking a crowbar to canon and prying open cracks that I could fit some extra scenes into. It's been cathartic, and let me poke at my Steve & Natasha feelings, too. And my Steve & Bucky feelings. And nod towards my Bucky & Natasha feelings. And...
> 
> Well, I really enjoyed writing this one, and I hope you all enjoyed reading it, too. Want to chat more about Endgame, things you liked, things you didn't? I love chatting in the comments, but also, you can find me [on Tumblr!](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sassysnowperson)
> 
> Also, [If you enjoyed it, here's a fancy graphic to look at and reblog!](https://sassysnowperson.tumblr.com/post/184951288321/return-policy-read-on-ao3-rated-t-8888-words)


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